The Tree's Warmth
by KitKnit
Summary: A fluffy little moment between Meghan and Puck after he's shot and lying, healing, inside a dryad's tree. Rated T only because of gruesome description of bullet wound, and they start sucking face.


We had been with the dryads two days now, much to the protests of Ash. He had glared at me coldly since the night he saved me from the satyrs, even arguing with me fiercely when I had refused to leave Puck. I begged to stay for one more night, hoping with everything I had that he would wake up in that short amount of time.

Ash had scoffed. "No one knows if he will ever wake up, much less within the nearing hours." My bottom lip had trembled and tears of anger had welled in my eyes, to which he gave me a surprised look. "Princess –"

"No," I growled, standing from where I had been sitting on the grass. I started to walk away, angry tears starting to fall. Ash didn't follow, though something deep inside me wished that he did. Something not so deep inside me felt guilty for wanting that. Here I was, wishing that some bastard prince would follow me and make me feel better while my best friend, my Puck, was possibly dying. And after everything Ash had said to me the last few days, I should have wanted the exact opposite.

Since Grimalkin was nowhere to be found and I couldn't stand to be alone, I wandered to the tree where Puck slept inside. The dryad watching over him peaked her head out from her tree, nodding to me slowly and slipping back inside. I closed my eyes and stepped through the trunk of the tree.

It smelled like pine and warmth inside the tree, a testament to how closely the dryads were tied to the earth. Puck lay still on a pile of straw, a thin sheet blanketing him. He wore no shirt or pants, clad only in his underwear, and the blanket was pulled down just enough so that I could see the ragged wound on his ribs.

The skin around the bullet's exit was blackened, scabbed and scorched, and it appeared that his skin had started to flake around the hole. I pressed my fist to my lips so that I wouldn't let out too loud of a sob, though the dryad watched me with her pit-like black eyes. She nodded to me again and faded through the trunk of her tree, leaving me inside with Puck.

I crawled onto the straw mattress and lifted the blanket, moving Puck's arm out from his body and pillowing my head on it, curling against him like a frightened child. And I was just that, in that moment – a frightened child. I had only just turned sixteen and here I was, facing a possibly unstoppable ruler of faeries no creature had even imagined would ever exist and my best friend was dying inside the trunk of a dryad's tree. I laid my head on Puck's bare chest, having been careful to lay on the opposite side of his wound. The tears that fell now were ones of fear and loneliness.

I found myself whispering to him while he slept. "Don't leave me, Puck. Please don't leave me with this mission." My lip trembled and more tears spilled down my cheeks. "You said you would always be here to protect me, so you can't leave." It was a horribly selfish thing to say, but something came of it.

He coughed. I jumped into a sitting position, looking down at him in shock. His eyes fluttered open and his lips contorted into a grimace before slowly changing to a smirk. "I … did say I would never leave," he rasped, his voice harsh and pained. His chest rose and fell brokenly, like he was having trouble breathing. I leaned over him, tears dripping onto his bare skin. I cried over his body, relief washing over me so powerfully that if I had been standing, I would have collapsed.

"Don't … cry, princess," he rasped, the arm I had made into a pillow reaching toward me. "You know … I hate seeing you … sad." He rubbed my back slowly and I knew even that slight motion exhausted him, as did speaking.

I couldn't help from smiling through my tears. "Shut up, you idiot," I whispered, leaning closer to him. "You don't need to talk. You probably have a collapsed lung."

He coughed a laugh. "Even … so," he began before he coughed horribly. The sound squeezed the growing knot of nerves in my stomach. "Come here … lay with … me."

I obliged immediately, curling back against his side as he wrapped his arm around me. His fingers ventured under the hem of my tee shirt and he drew tiny designs on my stomach with his fingers. The motion calmed him, I knew. He would trace patterns on my arms or shoulders when he got nervous; it was an old habit that I secretly loved very much.

"I love when you do that," I whispered, almost hoping he wouldn't be able to hear my confession. I could almost feel him smile.

"I know … Meghan." I turned my head up to look at him, my head pillowed on his shoulder. His face was very close to mine and my eyes flashed to his lips on instinct. "Remember … before my duel … with Ash?"

I nodded, though I didn't understand why he would bring it up. I didn't enjoy remembering the awful feud between the two men that meant so much to me and to our journey.

"I asked you … for a … kiss." Recognition dawned and I smiled. He smiled back, though weak and his eyes were half-lidded like he wanted to fall asleep again. "Cheeks … aren't kisses … princess."

I leaned my head up slightly, my lips meeting his softly. His mouth was warm and he tasted like spring itself – like a thousand possibilities that could be possible. I could never be with Ash; if feelings were discovered between the princess and prince of warring courts, the war would last much longer and become more deadly. But with Puck, I had a future. Possibilities of happiness, love, and eternity washed over me as I kissed him, my hand moving up to run my fingers through his fine red hair.

When we pulled apart, he was breathing a bit hard but he was smiling affectionately. "Your father … might be upset that his servant fell … in love with his daughter."

Heat flooded my cheeks and I felt my heart hammer against my chest. He'd said it. Not in so many words, but he had said it. He'd confessed the love for me he'd been hiding the entire time, which opened up my eyes to many things he had given me as hints.

His fierce jealousy of Ash and my interactions with him, his constant protection, the way he looked at me sideways whenever I said something strange or ridiculous; memories of the obvious hints whipped through my mind and all I could do was smile.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize earlier," I murmured, leaning up to kiss him again. The hand he had been tracing patterns with moved further up my shirt to my ribs, making me feel safe and protected, the way he had always made me feel. "I love you," I whispered when we broke apart again. "I love you, Robbie, Puck, Robin, no matter which person you are, fey or human."

"It doesn't matter … who I am, as long as I'm … me." He smirked and though it must have been exhausting, he leaned his head down to kiss me this time, his mouth moving against mine slowly. We stayed like that for the rest of the night until we both fell asleep, kissing, whispering, smiling, and holding one another. Thoughts of what lay ahead didn't enter my mind that night, lying next to him and professing our love over and over. I didn't want anything to ruin the perfectness of the moments.


End file.
